When I lived in the Michigan, I was very happy when the first signs of spring appeared. It was such a relief from the cold gray days of winter to finally, finally see some sun. When it hit 40 degrees, people would go outside without coats, and spring peeper frogs could be heard everywhere. Daylight lasted until 5:00 pm, and art fairs and street festivals started popping up.

Here in southern California we don’t get to hear spring peepers, but we do get to experience spring street fairs and festivals. One of my favorites is the Encinitas Street Fair, which will be April 27-28, 2019. And, like last year, St. Andrew’s will have a booth at the fair.

Our purpose in having a booth at the fair is twofold: first, to increase our visibility in the community, and second to provide a message of hope and peace. Last year we got a lot of favorable comments about our banner “God loves you; no exceptions.” Some people had seen (and heard) folks who had paraded through the fair with signs telling them were going to hell; after that, folks really appreciated our sign reassuring them that God loves them, no matter what.​The Encinitas Street Fair is set up on the Coast Highway, from D Street to J Street. This year it is the last weekend in April. The Saint Andrew’s booth will be down at the southern end, near Philz Coffee and Classic Auto. Come on down and say hello, and if you can spare a couple of hours, help us greet people and tell them a little about Saint Andrew’s. We’ll even give you a granola bar.

A mission statement encapsulates, and reminds us, of our values as a community. The values we identified as core to who we are as a parish include:

We are an open and welcoming community.

We love and serve our neighbors together.

We care for each other as family.

We joyfully live out our faith, grounded in the Gospel.

And, we celebrate the journey!

I had been thinking about our core values in relation to Pentecost ever since I read an article from a podcast called “Can These Bones.” I can’t remember where I came across the report, but, of course, with a title like “Can These Bones” it caught my attention because I knew we’d be reading about “dem bones” in the Ezekiel passage on Pentecost Sunday.

As I read the interview with the Executive Vice President of Jet Blue Airlines, I got really excited about how the mission statement of a company in the for-profit world was so similar to ours in the not-for-profit world. Both statements are about making a difference in the world.

The Jet Blue mission statement can be boiled down to two words: Inspiring Humanity. And the airlines very consciously intend the double meaning: both “inspiring humanity,” as in their actions inspire the rest of the world, and also “inspiring humanity” in terms of taking actions that inspire others to do things that are humane, just, true, and respectful—“inspiring humanity.”

In that article, the Jet Blue executive talked about how not only do all the employees—from the cleaning crew to the cabin crew—have the company’s core values memorized, they are empowered to take actions that might go against protocol, if those actions would better live into the company’s values. So, for instance, after the shooting at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando a few years back, Jet Blue offered free travel for families of victims, back and forth from Puerto Rico to Orlando. So while increasing the company’s bottom-line is surely a desired outcome, it is not one of their core values.

When we identified the core values of St. Andrew’s, we were coached to think about what we would keep doing as a parish—as the body of Christ—even if we received negative criticism for doing so. Jesus might not have ever mentioned the words “core values,” but he certainly embodied and modeled for us the kinds of risks one ought to take when living into “kingdom values.”

Even though his actions did not win Jesus popularity contests with those in charge, he healed people on the Sabbath, he sat with the other, he insisted that people in his company care for each other—even if they were strangers to each other, because, like Jet Blue employees, Jesus had been empowered to take risks in order to better live into the values of God that would inspire humanity.

The Ezekiel story we read on Pentecost reminds us that sometimes—although the values were there all along, we require new life to be breathed into us. So that breath might be a reclaiming of sorts. It’s not that we’ve been doing church wrong, but the fabric of our culture continues to change, so we dig down deep and we find the points at which more people can access Christ’s message, and we breathe new life into the bones of our parish.Lately life is being breathed into a national movement called “Reclaiming Jesus.” The founding group is a couple dozen clergy from a number of different denominations—from Baptists to Methodists to Episcopalians—including Michael Curry, our current Presiding Bishop. The preamble to the joint statement of faith they created on Ash Wednesday quotes Martin Luther King Jr., who said, “The church must be reminded that it is not the master or the servant of the state, but rather the conscience of the state.”

The statement includes six affirmations, each of which is counterbalanced by a rejection. I’ll highlight a couple of them that follow the thread of our core values:

We believe each human being is made in God’s image and likeness. Therefore, we reject the resurgence of white nationalism and racism in our nation.

We believe how we treat the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, the stranger, the sick, and the prisoner is how we treat Christ himself. Therefore, we reject the language and policies of political leaders who would debase and abandon the most vulnerable children of God.​

One of our vestry members was so moved by the statement that she traveled to D.C. to be a part of a prayer vigil the Reclaiming Jesus group held outside the White House this week!

I think that sort of stirring—that feeling that “I have to be a part of this!”—is what the sense of “astonishment” must have been for the people gathered on that day of Pentecost. It’s way more than that they heard their own language being spoken. That kind of astonishment comes in the recognition that the thing that’s happening is so much larger than us, and that we are included in it. That’s the whole point of Pentecost—to alert us, to remind us, to blow through us with a Holy wind that God’s values—God’s love—is for everyone…no matter the language they speak!

This is included in a couple of our core values:

We are an open and welcoming community.

We love and serve our neighbors together.

Just as Jet Blue has claimed they are about more than simply airplanes, they’re about making a difference in the world, we are not just about this building, we are BEING church out in the world—sharing kingdom values with all we encounter.

Every year at this time, blog posts and news reports appear begging mothers to consider all the people for whom Mother’s Day might not be a pleasant holiday. The growing trend is to request that mothers yield the day to those who have experienced loss.

I wonder if it’s because Mother’s Day holds itsroots in feminism. Early incarnations included ancient Greco-Roman celebrations of the mother Goddesses and a day for mothers of opposing sides during the Civil War to reconcile. The more formal holiday grew out of feminist calls to action, the most renowned being Julia Ward Howe’s late 19th century request for mothers to unite for world peace.

It is indeed a helpful reminder that compassion and empathy for those who have experienced loss are two callings we should strive to fulfill. Must we do so, though, at the expense of celebrating the important values and lessons we learn from the women who came before us?

This especially presents a challenge for communities of faith, who traditionally celebrate Mother's Day with gusto.

I have been a motherless child. I spent over two decadesestranged from my mother, who passed away just a few years after we re-united. I have also been a childless woman, desperate to enter motherhood. I spent years struggling withinfertility and awaiting adoption. I understand how painful it can be around Mother’s Day to have images that evoke personal loss punctuate one’s time and space.

I also know, though, how affirming it can feel to have our families, friends, and faith communities celebrate motherhood each year. Perhaps faith communities should think twice before eliminating a liturgical nod to Mother's Day.

Consider the following:

1. Mothers in the U.S. are a marginalized population. It might not seem this way to people without children, who are tired of our double-strollers crowding sidewalks and our whining children disturbing their nights out (or to at least one woman who thinks that maternity leave should be available to women without children). However, U.S. mothers are regularly mommy-tracked in our careers. Unlike much of the world’s mothers and despite many of us requiring, at minimum, physical recovery time, we are not guaranteed pay for maternity leave. Child care is often prohibitively expensive for U.S. families, typically leading to one parent staying home. Since, on average, women are paid less than our male counterparts for the same jobs, it usually falls on women to sacrifice our careers if necessary to care for our children.

2. Father’s Day, the male equivalent to Mother’s Day, does not receive the same level of scrutiny and criticism. My Facebook feed isn’t filled each Father’s Day with calls to be more considerate of fatherless children and men who struggle with the loss of fatherhood. Father’s Day even holds the distinction ofhaving been created largely so that fathers would feel included in celebrations of parenthood.

3. A day meant to celebrate women is the one secular holiday that U.S. Americans seem to want to micro-manage. There are various annual, secular holidays besides Father’s Day that celebrate a particular faction of people to the exclusion of others without the scrutiny held over Mother’s Day. When Veterans Day rolls around, those of us who are neither veterans nor closely connected with veterans step aside to allow the beneficiaries of the day to hold their spotlight. We even line up to participate in parades where we cheer on people we might not even know. Likewise, Valentine’s Day is typically considered for lovers, the crux of Halloween for children. Though we should never force pointed holidays onto those who don’t celebrate them, we can and do allow specific groups of people their special days.

4. The U.S. American calendar is filled with non-holiday events and experiences that provide opportunities for some to the exclusion of others. As long as exclusivity is not born out of bigotry, hatred, or support for inequality, this can be okay, even necessary. Non-runners, including those of us unable to run due to disabilities, typically do not begrudge runners their races, even though they close our roads and clog our neighborhood coffee shops several times a year. Adults don’t ask children to enjoy their school breaks less because we don’t receive the same amount of time off. We don’t request that college students avoid expressing their pride on social media about scholarships or other accolades they receive as academics, even though non-students don’t receive scholarships for general living. Everybody can’t be a part of everything, nor should we expect total inclusion.

5. More than any other group of people, it seems, mothers are constantly told how we are supposed to carry out our roles. We are given conflicting advice, backed by convincing, but also conflicting, science regularly. We are pandered to by corporations that want our money, criticized and prosecuted by legislators who want to control us, simultaneously demonized and deified by the media. Now we are being told to be careful about how we celebrate Mother’s Day because people who are not mothers, or who don’t have healthy relationships with their mothers or motherhood, might feel excluded. To be tossed into yet one more battle that divides and belittles us, a battle that few else are asked to enter with regards to other secular holidays, feels like another way to control women in general, mothers specifically.

Within a contemporary feminist context, Mother’s Day affords us one day a year when we can hope for a neutral zone, when mothers can support and celebrate one another, despite our culture’s insistence upon dividing us. It also offers families who choose to celebrate the day together a formal pause in family chaos to reflect upon mother/child relationships.

The concept of motherhood can be an emotionally loaded challenge for many people. I understand and have been there. I also believe that we can honor the losses surrounding mothers and motherhood within our culture while creating space on Mother’s Day for mothers and families of every incarnation to choose to celebrate motherhood as desired—inside and outside of faith communities—without fear of repercussion, guilt, and division.

A phrase I’ve been meditating on for a few weeks now is: “It’s easy to rush and make a mess, it’s hard to wait and give birth to a promise.” I’m someone who likes to see and get things done. I’m someone who has been too quick to answer, and too quick to move on in the face of frustration. There’s a word for that: impatient. I can be impatient about so many things in life, and I’m not the only one.

When the shootings in Parkland, Florida rippled through the lives of the young people there, we all experienced some form of impatience. Wherever you stand on issues related to the second amendment and gun control, there’s impatience in the air. Something does need to be done, but what, and how? How do we resurrect dignity in the face of our own impatience?

The young people of Parkland spoke. They used their voice to raise this impatience. In the space filled with sorrow and anger, they used the instrument God gives to prophets. How long, o Lord, how long? They restored their dignity by speaking to vulnerability and suffering.

When I imagine impatience and waiting, I see a sort of dance. Impatience wants things done now, and waiting is okay — letting some pieces fall naturally into place. Neither is wrong, we should want things done quickly; and we need to learn to heel our expectations. All of this is wrapped in the most valuable resource we have: time. In our Greek scriptures in the New Testament, there are two words for time. Kronos(chronology) is sequential time: this happened then that happened. Kairos is opportune time: the time to act, decisive time. I’ll throw in one more Greek word for fun: kerygma. Kerygma is proclamation.

For youth and young adults at St. Andrew’s and across the United States, we are in a moment of kairos. Our confirmation class is at an opportune time to practice their (kerygmatic) proclamation of faith. This summer, the youth group will participate in a kairos moment in fire swept areas of Northern California, proclaiming a Gospel truth of God’s wish to restore us and all of creation. With some help from my fellow young adults, we will embody a moment of kairos, seeking to serve people in our age group by studying our needs and understanding what needs kerygmaamongst us.

What we make of any kairos moment becomes kronos, a sequence of events, in the rearview mirror. But in this moment, we still need to listen for the Spirit, discern our call, and then act in prayer and hope. What Christians kerygmatically voice is the resurrection of dignity of all people through the life of Jesus Christ and the grace of God. We, as the body of Christ, are called to restore dignity wherever it lies in shambles, or simply needs restoring. With the example of the Parkland students in mind, may we speak boldly in this kairos moment, and may we proclaim the restoration of all people’s dignity.

On Ash Wednesday, as we in the church pondered both love and death, 17 children were killed — and many more wounded — in yet another school shooting. This time, the lives were lost in Parkland, Florida.

It is natural to respond to such news by either fighting or fleeing. As a parent of three teenagers, I wanted nothing more than to hide the news from my children and go about our Valentine’s Day/Ash Wednesday events. Others jumped into argument mode, immediately debating the issues that arise when there is a mass shooting. There is a reason we hold a strong fight or flight response: it helps us to survive even the thought of such incomprehensible atrocities.

There is another response we can work to muster, though. We can take action. On Ash Wednesday, we considered our own sin and mortality. “I think we need to ask ourselves today,” I started with my kids on our way home from both a Valentine’s Day activity and receiving ashes, “If, when we die, we want to be remembered for our sinfulness or for what we did to ease the suffering in the world caused by sinfulness. Will we be remembered for how we loved or for how we hurt?”

What actions can we — as a community of faith — do to love more than we hurt?

We can work to dismantle the hatred and bigotry that often lead to such violent acts. We can commit to nurturing those who feel overwhelmed by loneliness and isolation. We can work to effect the legislative changes necessary to reduce gun violence. We can create systems that assist those whose needs outweigh their resources. We can take steps to build strong, welcoming communities that embrace all people.

Responding to the mass shooting in Las Vegas in 2017, the Episcopal organization Bishops United Against Gun Violence wrote, “We must look into our own hearts and examine the ways in which we are culpable or complicit in the gun violence that surrounds us every day.”

We at St. Andrew’s express our prayers for and solidarity with all those affected by the school shooting in Parkland, Florida. We vow to take action to eliminate our own complicity in violence and to help heal a nation lost to grief.​

You can read the entire statement from Bishops United Against Gun Violence here and their more recent statement regarding school shootings here.

One of the great joys of my life is living in a place that seems pretty much what I imagine heaven could be like . . . warm sunshine, lovely open spaces, fauna that shows itself on the ground and in the sky. Really, a dream come true if you like hiking!

A handful of trails in the San Diego area really do stand out if you’re looking for ways to find God in nature. Try these:

1) Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve is the diamond of North San Diego County. The spectacular views and cool ocean breezes are impossible to beat. Climbing a fairly steep hill at first, it plateaus out to several separate trails that all reveal 180 degree ocean views from above the bluff. Truly astonishing!

2) Way Up Trail in Elfin Forest Recreational Reserve is for those that actually enjoy climbing a good hill. After some switchbacks through natural chaparral and riparian oaks, the Olivenhain Dam is widely visible. The hill views from up top are quite incredible.

3) San Elijo Lagoon is a lovely way to see some active bird life and stay as cool as possible on the coast. The trail starts at the mouth of the lagoon and continues inland through shady eucalyptus forest. The Lagoon Conservancy has recently created a brand new loop trail called Annie’s Slot Canyon that is SO fun, very steep and narrow but short and doable, revealing a view at the top of the entire lagoon!

4) Los Penasquitos Canyon Preserve is lush after the rains and the wildflowers have been blooming. Once you’ve been on the trail for 5 minutes, you’ll feel like you’re wandering around in some remote wilderness with gentle rolling hills that end in a decent little waterfall. It’s magnificent!

5) Iron Mountain is a truly awesome, semi-strenuous and lengthy hike that winds through East County low chaparral with a steady rocky ascent on an openly exposed trail. Try hiking this trail on full moon evenings; climb up at dusk watching the sunset and moonrise, climb down in the full moonlight. You’ll be amazed at how bright the moonlight is – you can actually hike safely with just a flashlight. This is one of my favorite hikes in San Diego – day or night.